


Under My Skin

by Missy_dee811



Series: Sublimation [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel 616
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Vol. 5 (2013), Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dom Tony, Dom Tony Stark, Friends With Benefits, Humiliation, Impact Play, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, New Avengers Vol. 3 (2013), Not A Fix-It, Sub Steve, Sub Steve Rogers, Superior Iron Man Vol 1. (2015), Under-negotiated Kink, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-14
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-11-17 19:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18104960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_dee811/pseuds/Missy_dee811
Summary: Maybe this was the way it would be between them. Maybe he didn’t care so long as there was a them.Maybe this was the beginning of the end.





	Under My Skin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kiyaar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiyaar/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Get Under My Skin [Take My Body Home Remix]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13629936) by [Missy_dee811](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy_dee811/pseuds/Missy_dee811). 



> Happy (belated) birthday, Kiyaar!
> 
> UPDATE: This is a sequel to and does spoil the end of Get Under My Skin [Take My Body Home Remix], but it can be read as a standalone.

He had kept the note. It was stupid, so stupid, but it was still written in his hand.

He had spent so many years seeing and reading Tony’s handwriting. Despite what people believed, he handwrote quite a lot.

_“Didn’t really learn much in boarding school I didn’t already know, but they taught us how to write.”_

He was meticulous and detailed. He’d scribble notes on mission reports, made corrections to the minutes from the last team meeting. He’d even amend SHIELD reports, to Maria’s chagrin.

_“I spend so much time signing contracts,” he’d lament._

His cursive was small and neat. He wrote with such care. Always dotted his i’s and crossed his t’s.

For a time, Steve had thought it was for his benefit since he preferred to read print media. Soon he realized, for all the time he spent connected to the web, for all the time he spent developing new technologies, Tony loved writing.

He kept notebooks. Journals full of notes. Stored them in the drawers in his workshops. He labeled everything. Labeled all his projects, all his files. As he grew to rely on technology more and more, he stopped writing as much, but not entirely.

Steve had come down to the workshop, on more than one occasion, to find him sketching or drawing blueprints. He’d used the same pencil until it was nearly impossible to hold it anymore and only then would he discard it.

 

_“I hate lead pencils. The lead always breaks at the worse moment.”_

_“I thought they were –”_

_“If you call them mechanical pencils, I’m leaving the team forever.”_

_“You wouldn’t.”_

_“You better not.”_

 

It was red. A small red pencil. Its print came out only slightly thicker than a colored pencil, but it glided across the page, and that was why Tony loved it. He stashed them under his work bench. Always within reach.

He had written the note he left Steve using that red pencil. Of that, he was sure. He could almost see him writing it. Steve was sure he had been staring at him as he wrote it. Smirking, most likely. Happy as can be.

He crumped the paper in his rage and regretted it soon as he did. Smoothing it out, he read it over again.

It was such a stupid thing to treasure. Tony didn’t love him – not this Tony, not anymore. Steve still did, and he wondered if things could be different. He’d ask himself again and again if it was worth it.

He finally understood Tony, after all these years. He finally understood.

And yet, this – this poor substitute – would have to suffice.

 

 

Steve didn’t know why he kept agreeing to these clandestine meetings, but he couldn’t stop seeing him. He had wanted him for so long and he finally had him, but everything was wrong.

“Back for another round,” he asked.

Tony sat back against the headboard. Steve knew he was naked under the thin sheet covering his lower limbs. He wanted to climb into bed and feel him near. Feel the warmth of his skin, feel how smooth it was. That too, was wrong, his skin shouldn’t be smooth – he should be scarred. His fingers and toes should be calloused. There should be nicks and burns across his forearms. Bruises from the armor, bruises that never really faded.

Every other time had been a mistake, but this might be the worst one. Every part of Steve was screaming, telling him to leave. Book a trip back to New York. Flee.

He wasn’t a coward though. Needy and lovesick and broken, but never a coward. He needed to know the truth. He needed to ask these questions. A small part of him was hoping Tony wouldn’t answer, but they couldn’t go back now. They couldn’t pretend.

Or rather, Steve couldn’t pretend, it was all pretend for Tony. It wasn’t really him.  

He spoke before he lost the nerve.

“Do you really love me, or did you just say that to get me to come?”

“Would you have come if I hadn’t?”

 

Such a simple question, but Steve found himself without a voice and without an answer.

Would he have come that night? Would they have keep going? Would he have used him, chasing his pleasure, the circulation in his legs be damned?

Undeniably, the answer was yes. He would’ve come. Whether Tony had said anything or not. Tony would’ve kept going until he was satisfied. He would’ve kept going had it been a toy or a machine. After all, he was no different.

Steve would feel numb.

He’d feel used and abused, but he had wanted that. It was why he sought him. It was why he sought him time and time again. It was only in those moments with Tony that he felt alive. On the brink of something and the precipice of something else. Nursed by the fire. Oh, but it burned.

His legs burned as the circulation returned. As everything returned to normal. And the next time, Steve would have walked through that door, wanted nothing more.

 

Rising to his knees, Tony crawled across the bed, letting the sheet fall around his knees. Steve stood, transfixed.

 _God, he was half hard already._ Steve had been right, he was naked under the sheet. He missed touching and kissing that skin. Missed having those arms tying him up and holding him down.

He was so beautiful, always had been. Soft, dark waves framing his face. He looked at him and met his deep, blue eyes. At the edge of the bed, Tony stood, and walked towards him.

He closed the space between them and  Steve heard a breath escape. Whose breath, he wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. Steve wasn’t sure what he expected.

Oh, he knew he wanted a kiss, but that was wishful thinking, and he had long since given up on such things. He had had dreams. Dreams of them together, dreams of them side-by-side fighting whomever and whatever. No lies, no secrets.

They were such beautiful dreams, but on days like this, they haunted him. He preferred nightmares.

Instead, he was met with a slap across the face. He felt the sharp pain and it knocked him off balance. Only here could Tony make him feel weak. Only here.

“I asked you a question and you didn’t answer,” said Tony. The anger seeping out.

Steve didn’t know how to respond. He touched his cheek, where his palm had been seconds ago. It was still warm.

“You know you deserved that slap.”

Steve was still in shock. He hadn’t been expecting it. It scared him. Yet, he felt invigorated. The adrenaline coursing through his veins had reignited something in him. Was this the rush addicts felt?

He could ask. It might earn him another slap.

“I – I would have come.”

“Good,” said Tony, and for once he meant it. He sat back down on the edge of the bed. Steve watching his fingers work, watching him unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. Steve held his breath. He took over seconds later and Tony let him.

Resting on his elbows, he watched Steve undress, loving every moment of it. He was half hard himself. The slap had been so unexpected, it had caught him off guard.

Maybe this was the way it would be between them. Maybe he didn’t care so long as there was a _them_.

Maybe this was the beginning of the end.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has its own post on [Tumblr](http://viudanegraaa.tumblr.com/post/183441524191/under-my-skin-missydee811-marvel-616-archive%22).


End file.
